Monday, June 8, 2009

Siiiiiiigh...

I awoke to my radio alarm this morning. I stretched my hands up over my head and pointed my toes -- happy to awaken another day...well...

Actually, I opened one eye grudgingly, and with misplaced anger at an inanimate object, glared at my clock radio. I tried to pretend that I could go back to sleep with the music blaring and turned my, now closed, eye away from the morning sun. It was then that I realized that it was not the normal "sophisticated and uppity concerned for the world on my way to work through Columbus circle" NPR morning radio that I was used to but the brand new Drake colabo...

Who changed the station on my radio?!?

I was kinda grooving because my brain was still thinking this might be one of the times that NPR reaches out to the rest of the world and interviews a hiphop artist..it does happen...occasionally. But then the song was over and the morning personality's gruff voice began to reminisce about the Hot 97 summer jam concert that was the 'ish last night. He brought Jadakiss on to introduce the interview that they had recorded the previous night by singing the verse to his new jam. I can't remember it all but this line stuck with me...never believe a chick over a dude. Possibly innocuous...uhm innocuous in no sense of the word. Ugh. I am so weary. Can the lack of further explanation convey how tired I am of the sexism??

Had it not been blank thirty in the morning my defenses would have been up and I would have shook my head and ignored it but alas - I was raw, me with no filter, defense, protection and I was pissed. The sexism was so present and quietly violent and more at home than even I was. It seems to me that in the hiphop world I am a 'frickin' visitor and sexism is at home. I was the only one walking around angry, everyone else is cool with it. Dismissing it. Ignoring it. Comfortable with it. It's my angry ass that everyone is looking at wondering what the hell is wrong with me. It's me who should be at home and safe not the whose neck is jerking in anticipation for the next assault on my femininity -- sexism is fine and finds little, if any, threats to itself -- I'm sure it sleeps much more soundly than I do, confident in it's continued existence. I however, suspect that should I get too loud, too convincing, too masculine? I will be asked to leave.

Sigh. So now a woman's, I'm sorry "chick's", word is always to be suspect when it differs from the man's. Sigh. Really people? We really don't see the parallels here? That doesn't sound like it was snatched straight from the racism tome of precepts? No? Or is it just that black masculinity in some quarters is staunchly wedded to sexism? Well, you know how I feel today and thus I am weary and tired and sometimes I just wanna go home and be safe and know that I am welcomed and loved and, most of all, trusted.

I think I better remember to change the station on my radio before I go to sleep. I can't keep waking up angry every morning -- I might hurt someone.

Oh and boy am I pissed that black police officers in NYC are going to have to get specially made guns so that they won't be accidentally shot -- to death -- by their fellow police officers...

WHAT???!!! THE ???!!!??? FUCK?????!!!!! (excuse my language -- it was called for)

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